The Marley Way of Business
by Tyraa Rane
Summary: Like clockwork, LeChuck shows up every year to kill Guybrush and marry Elaine. And, yes, he's at it again––but this time somebody else is going to be calling the shots. A short, hopefully humorous parody.


Disclaimer: Monkey Island is copyright LucasArts, etc. I make no money from relentlessly parodying their work. Please don't sue. Unless, of course, you really _want_ that giant mutant dustbunny living in the corner...  
  
A/N: This was inspired by one of the fandom's comments as to what they'd like to see in MI5. I blame them for this plot bunny, really. This is in absolutely no way related to the whole..._Camera Obscura_...thing.  
  
  
  
  
  


_The Marley Way of Business_  


  
  
  
  
  
The dread pirate LeChuck sat and drummed his heavy, cracked stone fingers against the table. It was the only furniture in the room, LeChuck's top secret hideout on Monkey Island, and LeChuck looked as if he might smash it at any moment--and he certainly had the power to. His new stone form--cracked and slightly unwieldy as it was--offered him more strength than he'd ever had before. He glanced at his wrist, remembered belatedly that he didn't have a watch, and looked at the woman sitting across from him.  
  
"He's late," he growled.  
  
Elaine looked up, shrugged, and adjusted her bandana in a manner that was distinctly nonchalant. "He'll show up eventually," she said calmly. "He has to if he wants to save me and destroy you. Again."  
  
"Aye, but I don't be havin' all day to wait for 'im."  
  
Elaine snorted. "You think _you're_ the one annoyed by this? _You're_ the undead demon from heck. It's not like you're getting any older."  
  
Just then, the door burst open and Guybrush strode in with the most dramatic entrance he could muster. "I'm Guybrush Threepwood," he said proudly, hefting an odd golden voodoo knickknack in one hand, "and I mean to kill you all!" He paused and looked sheepishly at Elaine. "Well, except for you, Elaine, of course."  
  
Elaine smiled thinly. "Of course."  
  
LeChuck stood up. "Threepwood!" he bellowed, just as his head hit the ceiling. "D'aaargh! Blast be these hideouts, they're always buildin' 'em underground..."  
  
As LeChuck rubbed the top of his head and grumbled something about cracking his own head open, Elaine crossed her legs and looked at Guybrush's mud-spattered clothes and bedraggled appearance. "You're late," she said crossly.  
  
Guybrush's face fell. "Sorry plunderbunny, but there was this troll...and then Murray tried to bite me...and I had to learn how to play Insult Go-Fish...and the crew mutinied...and Largo made this voodoo doll and...and..."  
  
She raised a hand to cut him off. "Not another one of your stories, Guybrush."  
  
"Right. Err, well--" he turned to LeChuck and raised the shiny knickknack--"Like I said, I mean to kill you and rescue my wife! ...Again."  
  
LeChuck sighed. "Well it's a bit late for that, isn't it? Ye were takin' so long makin' a fool out of yerself that a certain Ms. Marley agreed to marry a certain pirate that's not ye, Threepwood." He said the last with a particularly spiteful grin on his dark stone face.  
  
Guybrush blinked and looked to Elaine for confirmation. "But...but...it's not true! My plunderbunny only has eyes for me...right?"  
  
"Weeeell," she said, brushing some dust from her pants, "you _are_ late, Guybrush. LeChuck, at least, is perfectly predictable. You can always count on him to show up with the kidnap me, murder you scheme once a year. It's like clockwork, really. You...aren't so reliable, snugglecakes."  
  
Guybrush's face fell. "But...but..." He sighed and looked down at the floor. "Well, okay...if that's really how you feel..." His ego substantially deflated, the mighty pirate tossed his hard-won voodoo knickknack on the floor and left, quietly closing the door.  
  
LeChuck looked disappointed. "Ye said I'd get ta kill 'im and call it...call it...what'd ye say it was, again?"  
  
"'Justifiable homicide,' and you'll get your chance yet. He'll sulk for a few days and then come back just in time to stop the wedding, don't worry." She reached across the table and patted him soothingly on the hand. "Trust me...snugglecakes."  
  
LeChuck broke into a grin. "Aye, it's about time ye came to yer senses, Elaine. I knew I'd win yer heart one o'these days."  
  
"Years," Elaine corrected, smiling.  
  
"Aye. Now where be that thing of Threepwood's? We'd best be destroyin' it before it causes any trouble."  
  
"You mean this?" She held up the little knickknack in her hand and tossed it up and down. "I don't see what harm it could possibly do. It's about as harmless as a lawn ornament."  
  
"Er, lass, I don't think ye want to be doin'--"  
  
From his seat on the stairs leading to LeChuck's secret hideout, Guybrush winced at the loud explosion and the resulting "D'aaaaaargh!" that quickly faded away into nothingness. He was just standing up when Elaine forced the door back open--it having been slightly warped in the blast--and walked out with no injuries beyond a light coating of dust.  
  
Guybrush grinned when he saw her. "Elaine!"  
  
Elaine smiled and embraced him quickly, sending a cloud of dust up into the air. "You're right," she said, "blowing him into orbit _is_ rather satisfying. A bit like using high intensity explosives on a plain old rubber chicken, though."  
  
Guybrush sneezed. "Well, you did say you wanted to try it..."  
  
"I said I wanted to try it my way, plunderbunny. And see, the problem was solved that much faster, wasn't it? If you'd tried that, it probably would've taken you another week."  
  
"If I'd tried _that_," Guybrush answered dryly, "LeChuck would think I was some kind of pervert."  
  
"He already thinks that, Guybrush." Before he could come back with a proper retort, Elaine looked at her wrist, remembered that she didn't have a watch either, and said, "Well, we've got another year until he shows up again. Where do you want to go now?"  
  
He scratched his head and thought about this for a moment. "Anywhere but Pinchpenny Island."  
  
"Why not there?"  
  
"Well...there was this little...incident with a monkey...and then there was this guy named Ron; I kind of stole a bunch of money from him to buy the monkey, but then--"  
  
Elaine hung her head in her hands. "Never mind, I don't want to hear _any_ more about it." She sighed. "Maybe next time I should just do the entire routine myself." 


End file.
